Painted Clowns
by FotoBridgeT2
Summary: One shot inspired by Catherine and Sara's experience with clowns in Getting Off, tho it's set around season seven. Some light romance hints. Comedy, fluff, nothing serious. NOT a slash fic. A comedy involving Sara, Sofia, Catherine, Paint, and well..clown


"I hate clowns," Sara said it again as she, Catherine, and Sofia walked into the lobby of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Unfortunately their entrance didn't go unnoticed.

"What the hell?" Conrad Ecklie exclaimed after catching sight of the trio—and the three suspects in custody being led into the building directly behind them. Sheriff McKeen and DA Sinclair, as well as half a dozen other people, stood with Ecklie.

Nick stopped just outside the conference room and stared at the strange aberration heading his way. He couldn't help it—he broke down laughing.

It was not appreciated. Sofia kicked the hyena, and there was definite transfer.

Brass and Grissom came running out of Grissom's office at Nick's howl of pain. Grissom's draw dropped and for the first time in nearly a decade he was rendered speechless.

Not that it mattered—the three restrained clowns made more than enough noise to fill the now strangely silent crime lab.

"Miss SARA! I'm so sorry! We never meant for it to happen! Can you forgive me?" Said the tallest.

"Catherine! I love you!" Said the smallest.

"Sofia! Yeah, yeah, come arrest me! AGAIN!" Said the loudest.

The three paint-drenched women kept walking, leaving bright foot prints in their wake.

"WAIT!"

"Where are they going?"

"COME BACK!"

The clowns yelled again, pulling against the uniformed cops trying to restrain them.

Nick, Grissom, Brass, Warrick, and Greg laughed the loudest.

"One more sound!" Sara threatened, "And you'll all pay!" She stopped directly in front of Grissom. "This is all YOUR fault, Grissom!"

She shoved him back a foot, leaving two perfect crimson hand prints on his black shirt.

"My fault?" the supervisor was puzzled.

"You assigned us another case with _clowns._ You know how we feel about clowns!" Catherine jerked him around to face her, her own hands leaving yellow smudges on his arm. "You assigned us this case..ergo..you are culpable!"

The three women glared ferociously. Sara uselessly swiped the paint out of her eyes, again. She was covered head to foot in red paint—the slow drying variety. Sofia was a mess in cerulean blue and Catherine was a little canary blob of fury. They were miserable and the laughing jackass clowns weren't helping matters.

"Somebody shut those idiots up!" Ecklie finally shouted, "Gag them if you have to."

"With pleasure, sir." A uniform called.

"Would one of you three like to explain?" Brass smirked, "Detective Smurfette? Tweety-bird Willows? Little Red?"

"Your wit astounds, Jim," Catherine muttered darkly.

"Well?" Grissom tried to keep a straight face—he really did. He failed miserably.

"Quit laughing." Sofia hissed at her former supervisor, her secret boyfriend, and her current partner. Grissom, Nick, and Brass just ignored her. Not a smart move. "Oh, you'll get it. Just you wait."

"Could _someone _please explain this?" Ecklie demanded, aware of McKeen's presence beside him. "And why those three morons are in custody?"

"Cath, you get this one. You've got seniority." Sara shook her head, spraying thick red droplets around her. She was secretly thrilled to see that some landed on Ecklie's sports coat.

"We thought we had a 419. There _was _a body." Catherine started.

"Someone just neglected to mention it was a blow up doll." Sara added in disgust, "One of those five hundred dollar man toys."

"It was down at Ed's Motel off of I-15, of all places. Seems Ed was holding a third rate circus," Sofia said over the sounds of officers dragging the now gagged clowns down to booking.

"Every patron of the hotel three sheets to the wind. They _all _thought the body was real, though no one got close enough to check." Catherine tried to pull clumps of paint out of her hair as she spoke.

"The circus owners, Jumpin' Jack and his crew, thought to set traps for the supposed murderer," Sara snorted at the general stupidity of it all. _Clowns._

"Guess who were first through the door?" Sofia sidestepped to the left and her foot lipped in the mix of paint on the slick tiled floor. Nick grabbed her before she fell—more paint transferred to his clothing.

"And they were arrested because?" Ecklie tried to keep his glee in check. He loved seeing Sara Sidle humiliated. With Sofia and Catherine—what a bonus!

"Assault," Catherine started, "Disorderly conduct, maintaining a public nuisance, lewd and lascivious behavior and more."

"Wait?" Grissom tried to follow. "Go back. Lewd and lascivious? What else happened?"

"After the paint, they, uh, insisted on showing us they weren't packing." Sofia winced again at the memory. "Believe me—they really weren't."

"They were complete naked under their costumes and managed to strip down completely within seconds. And no, we didn't ask to see it." Catherine closed her eyes in remembered horror.

"They were very _proud _of them, uh, _selves." _Sara added, mouth twisting.

"And apparently they thought we'd be naturally as enthralled as they were with their small attributes." Catherine's voice was tight.

"I'll be having nightmares for weeks." Sara's hair was drying in clumps and all she wanted was a hot shower. "It was quite awful."

"Poor Sara was several yards closer to the exhibitionists and got more than a full dose of the show." Sofia snickered, remembering the brunette's reaction. She was convinced Sara hadn't called for divine intervention out of reverence.

"Can we go shower now? I've got paint in my ears and it's starting to dry." Sara asked, rocking from one foot to the other impatiently.

"Go. You all can fill me in later on the specifics." Grissom told them, mouth twitching. "Be in the conference room in forty minutes. Ecklie's called a meeting."

"Can do." Catherine said, scratching at the yellow paint on her arm. "Come on, girls."

They trudged off and the onlookers trailed away, Ecklie included.

"Do you suppose that they'll need help washing the paint off?" Greg whispered to Nick, earning a kick for reward.

"If they did, Greggo, I don't think you're the one they'd be asking." The Texan replied, wiping some blue paint from his hands on his now ruined shirt.

Grissom paused a moment in reflection, "You know, I've always liked circus acts—and theirs definitely holds potential." 


End file.
